


All About Us

by stumblinginthestars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1836406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stumblinginthestars/pseuds/stumblinginthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel leads a quiet life; he likes to remain in the background in order to focus on his studies and prefers to not get caught up in the drama that surrounds his peers. But he has developed a small crush. On the star running back of the football team. Who happens to be painfully straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Love

 

                Castiel Novak has a secret. A big secret. He has no one to confide in, though. Not that he could tell anyone anyway.  If he tells someone then... He shakes his head to clear it as he steps out of his house and into the cool, morning air. He heaves his backpack over one shoulder and walks to the bus stop. A couple other kids were waiting at the bus stop, too. They were mostly freshmen and sophomores. Castiel is a senior in high school. He is bored of the tedious drama and gossip the freshmen have been blathering on about the past month; he still doesn’t know who Bela is nor does he care that she’s slept with half of the football team. Well, if he’s being completely honest, he cares a little bit. He wonders if Dean Winchester has slept with Bela. Dean is the running back on the football team and one of the few people besides Jo that has even acknowledged his existence since he moved.

                Castiel’s dad is the “big boss” of a Christian company that distributes food to the homeless and poor families. Very popular, very generous, and very important to his dad. So, when Mr. Novak heard that Dallas, Texas had a large population of needy and homeless people, he decided that he would set up one of his centers there. And drag his son Castiel along with him, moving him to the big city at the start of his senior year. Meaning that the boy was all alone at a new school. Castiel didn’t complain, though. His father’s intentions were good and it wasn’t like he was leaving much behind in Michigan anyway. Sure, he’d had a couple good friends there, but none of them shared any special kind of bond.

                He climbs off the bus as the engine huffs to a stop. He walks through the crowd, making sure he doesn’t draw attention to himself. He wishes to remain in the background, unnoticed so he can focus on his schoolwork and, besides, he doesn’t need new friends; he can’t open up to anyone. Not really. He can never be one hundred percent himself. Castiel frowns, shaking off those negative thoughts. After all, positive thoughts bring positive occurrences. He lifts his pack higher on his shoulder as he rounds the corner. He runs smack into Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam drops a stack of books upon impact and Cas’s backpack hits Dean, causing the older Winchester’s open thermos of coffee to pour down his arm and across the front of his t-shirt.

                “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaims as the hot liquid drips down his forearm.

                Castiel stands frozen before bending over to help Sam gather his things. “I-I apologize.” Castiel rushes, stacking the papers that had slid out of Sam’s folder.

                “No, man, it’s okay,” Sam says as he picks up his stuff. Sam takes his folder from Castiel’s outstretched hand with a smile.

                “I am very sorry. Really.” Castiel stammers. He slowly stands up again, looking up at Dean who was shaking the coffee off his now-slightly-red forearm. “Are you burnt badly?”

                Dean sighs. “Yeah, no, I’m good.” Dean says before looking from his slightly scorched arm to Castiel. “It’s nothin’. Didn’t even hurt that bad.”

                “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to—“ Castiel stops when Dean claps a hand on his shoulder.

                “Dude, it’s fine. Stop apologizing. It’s really annoying,” Dean smiles at Castiel as he says this. Cas releases a breath and some of the tension in his body and nods. Dean chuckles, telling him to “chill out a little” before he and his brother continue on their way.

                Castiel curses himself as he makes his way to his locker. He hadn’t meant to soil Dean’s shirt and knock his little brother’s things to the ground. Now Dean probably thinks Castiel is the clumsiest guy in the world.

                Jo meets Castiel at his locker like she has the past week. He smiles at her as she starts telling him about her physics project. Castiel is really glad that he has Jo as a friend; she has to be the nicest girl in the school. Everyone likes Jo as far as Cas can tell. He didn’t know what attracted her to him since he had not gone out of his way to make connections, but he was glad that he managed to gain her as a friend. “So, how is your project going?” Jo asks as she leans up against the neighboring lockers.

                Castiel’s face gets serious and he says, “Well, I had originally planned on building a model replica of the solar system that rotates, but I figured that would be a tad too juvenile.”

                Jo laughs lightly before Castiel continues, “So I have now decided to create a small, self-sustaining greenhouse in a mason jar or water bottle. I haven’t worked it all out yet.”

                Jo rolls her eyes. “You know everyone else is gonna come in with bean plants and baking soda volcanoes, right?” she teases, shoving Castiel’s shoulder lightly. “Overachiever.”

                Castiel looks at the ground before looking back at the girl. “I just prefer to do my best and I hope to make a good grade.”

                “I know, I know,” Jo says as the school bell rings shrilly overhead. “Well, see you at lunch.” She waves at him as they part ways and head to their separate first period classes.

                Castiel is a good student—not a geek or a science nerd by any means, but he maintains all A’s and B’s in his classes. Always has. He sits quietly through his classes and stays quiet unless the teacher calls on him. He doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself; Castiel hates being the center of attention; he blushes and stutters when called upon. But in his English class, he cannot seem to focus on the lessons anymore. The reason? Dean Winchester is in the class with him. And, for some reason, Castiel has developed a massive crush on him. Yep, that’s the big secret. Castiel is gay and he can’t come out of the closet because high schoolers are cruel and ruthless. To make matters worse, Castiel had a crush on the hot, popular football star who was completely straight. How pathetic.

                Castiel comes out of his moment of self-loathing when he hears the teacher’s voice loudly ask, “Castiel?” He put too much emphasis on the ‘a’, though, and his name sounded more like Case-tee-el when the man said it.

                “Yes sir?” Castiel asks, realizing he has missed the teacher asking him a question.

                “I said what symbols did you find in your reading of _The Kite Runner_?” his teacher, Mr. Blackburn, asks with mild annoyance. One of the smarter students named Frank whips his hand up to answer.

                “Well, there was obviously the pomegranate tree, kites, and the monster in the lake.” He knows his answer is spot-on.

                The teacher bobs his head approvingly, then addresses Dean. “Dean, what do you think the pomegranates stand for?”

                Castiel looks at the desk beside his where Dean is sitting. Dean, however, does not answer because he has fallen asleep in his seat. His head is lolled back and his mouth slightly agape as he snoozes. Mr. Blackburn sighs and groans, “ _Someone_ wake him up.”

                A couple girls giggle sheepishly; apparently, they have the same feelings as Castiel towards Dean. But nobody makes a move to wake the teen, so Castiel takes it upon himself. He places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and shakes it lightly. “Dean.” He says the boy’s name. Dean stirs in his seat, shooting Castiel a what-is-going-on look as he finally emerges from his slumber. Castiel releases Deans shoulder a couple seconds later. “What the—Are we still in English?” Dean slurs groggily.

                The girls laugh at Dean a little too loudly and Mr. Blackburn scowls. “Thank you for joining us, Mr. Winchester,” he drawls sarcastically.

                “It’s no problem,” Dean smirks back, shifting in his seat.

                “So, Dean, what is the point of the pomegranate tree in The Kite Runner?” Mr. Blackburn asks, pacing up to the whiteboard.

                Dean shoots Castiel a look of confusion. Castiel returns the look. Was Dean asking for his assistance? “Cas, what’s the answer?” Dean whispers across the aisle as Mr. Blackburn rifles through his desk drawer for a marker.

                Castiel looks up at the distracted teacher before gazing back into Dean’s eyes. “Well, the pomegranate tree symbolizes the bond of friendship between Hassan and Am—“

                “Friendship.” Dean interrupts Cas’s whispering by telling Mr. Blackburn the answer.

                “What?” the teacher stands, marker-in-hand. He scowls at Dean with disbelief.

                “That pomegranate tree symbolizes the friendship of the two kids in the book.” Dean tells the professor, sounding pretty cocky as he does so.

                “That… is correct,” the semi-overweight man replies. He turns to the board and starts scrawling down other symbols in the book.

                When the bell rings, everyone stands and begins filing out of the class. Castiel scoops up his book, folder, and homework papers in a neat pile before heading to the door. Dean is loitering in the doorway and Castiel swallows, feeling a blush creeping onto his cheeks. Dean looks up at Castiel and gives him a crooked smile. “Cas!” he says, moving to let Castiel exit the room.

                “Yes, Dean?” Castiel asks as Dean falls into step with him.

                “Thanks for saving me in there,” Dean says before grumbling, “I swear Mr. B is out to get me.”

                “Uh, it was no problem at all.” Castiel tries to be nonchalant as he pops open his locker and sets his supplies inside.

                Dean nods, ducking his head with an embarrassed laugh. “Can I ask you a favor?”

                Castiel closes his locker and tilts his head to the side. “Yes, Dean, you may.”

                “Well, my grades in English are pretty crappy,” Dean says, kicking the bottom of the lockers with the toe of his sneaker. “But you probably already knew that.”

                “I have no knowledge of your grade in that class. Or in any other class, for that matter.” Castiel responds.

                Dean looks up, surprised. “Oh, well, I was wondering if you could tutor me? Coach says that if I don’t get my grades up, I’ll have to sit out a couple games…” Dean’s voice gets lower whenever someone passes by. Castiel’s head dips farther to the side; he is confused because normal “jock” behavior was taking pride in failing classes. Dean was not proud of his shortcomings, though. Castiel finds this rather endearing.

                Dean looks into Castiel’s eyes for a long moment before averting his eyes. “I mean, if you can’t, I get that, too. But—“  
                “No, Dean, I am free to assist you in your schoolwork,” Castiel says with a small smile.

                “Really? Awesome,” Dean nods. “What days are you free after school?”

                Castiel shrugs. “I am free every afternoon.”

                “Awesome. So, wanna start tonight?”

                Castiel nods his head. “Should I come to your house?”

                Dean nods. “Yeah! Uh, Four o’clock? My dad’s outta town for work. It’ll just be you, me, and Sammy.”

                “Alright.”

                And after clapping Cas on the shoulder, Dean strides away to join his friend Josh. Castiel feels a stirring in his stomach. Butterflies. He smiles down at his shoes and walks to his next class. When he enters his next class, Jo waves to him and points to an empty seat beside her own. He lowers himself into the chair next to Jo and she looks at him with a confused grin. “What’s got you so happy, Cas?”

                He looks at Jo and smiles a little bigger. “Today has been very successful in many aspects. I may tell you about it later.”

                Jo laughs as she turns back to her unfinished homework. “Alright, Castiel,”

                Castiel’s lips tilt upwards as he smiles to himself. He feels like Jo may be okay with the fact that he is gay. He may finally have someone to talk to. This thought is like a large weight being partially lifted off of his shoulders. It’s been so long since he has been completely open with someone about his sexuality. He tried to tell one of his friends back in Michigan, but he just ended up teasing Castiel and, eventually, shutting him out of his life completely. Castiel chews his lower lip at the memory, looking over at Jo. Would Jo do that to him, too? No. Jo is different; Jo is nice. Castiel decides that he’ll tell Jo after school when she drives him home.

                School goes by faster than Castiel expects. Probably because he has so much to worry about. He is going to come out to Jo and he has a tutoring session with Dean Winchester. Jo meets Castiel at his locker as usual and they walk to Jo’s blue Mazda. She is talking about something as they walk, but Castiel is too busy fidgeting with the lowest button of his button-up short sleeve top. She presses the unlock button as they approach the car and Castiel exhales largely. They both get into the car and close the doors at the same time. Castiel turns to Jo and the words jump out of his mouth.

                “I’m gay.”

                Jo’s face goes from normal to confused in about 2.5 milliseconds. “What?” she asks him, buckling up.

                Castiel sucks in a deep breath; it was much easier saying it the first time. “I am… gay.” He repeats himself, ducking his head.

                “Okay,” Jo nods her head slowly. “That’s cool.”

                Castiel turns to look at her and she doesn’t look uncomfortable or grossed out. She just looks like Jo. “You don’t think I’m a freak?”

                “What?” Jo frowns deeply. “No! Why would I… Has someone called you that?” she is suddenly defensive, puffing up like she is ready to fight someone.

                “No, no one here has. My friend back in Michigan… He said that.”

                “Well, he sounds like a dick. And you deserve better friends.” Jo says matter-of-factly.

                “Thank you, Jo.” Castiel says as the weight is fully removed from his shoulders. He sits up straight as Jo starts the car.

                “Besides the dick in Michigan, who else knows?” Jo asks, readjusting herself behind the wheel.

                “You.”

                “Just me?”

                Castiel nods, exchanging a glance at her briefly before she turns back to driving.

                “Not even your dad?” Jo is quieter when she asks this.

                Castiel shakes his head. “No, I feel as though telling him will only disappoint him. It could also affect the work he does… And it’s good work; I wouldn’t want to muddle it with political turmoil.”

                Jo places a hand on Cas’s shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. “You are the nicest guy I have ever met.” She removes her hand and leans back in her seat as the car slows to a stop in a long line of traffic. “So…” she begins, raising her eyebrows wickedly. “Do you have a thing for anyone?”

                “A _what_?” Castiel asks, confused by her slang.

                Jo laughs lightheartedly. “I mean, do you like anyone?”

                His face flushes a deep shade of red and he ducks his head again.

                “Oh my gosh! Tell me who it is!” Jo giggles. “This is so great! We can talk about boys and I know that you won’t be a total bitch like those girls at school.”

                Cas chuckles, “I’ll try to maintain from being a ‘total bitch.’”

                “So who have you got your pretty blue eyes set on?” Jo leans forward slightly.

                Castiel bites his lip, the car creeps forward to keep up with traffic. “Well, it is rather pointless to have feelings for him. He’s straight.” Castiel starts.

                “Who cares? It’s still fun to have a crush,” Jo reasons with a shrug and a smile.

                Castiel nods, but feels like Jo does not completely understand wanting someone you could actually never have. But instead of getting hung up on the depressing side of the situation, Castiel decides to take Jo’s advice. Having a crush could be fun-ish. “I have started to have feelings towards… Dean Winchester.” He says the name quickly, rushing it out of his mouth before he can get too embarrassed.

                “Are you shitting me?” Jo aks, eyebrows almost reaching her hairline. “Dean Winchester? Football jock and all-American, apple-pie Dean?”

                “Uhm… Yes.” Castiel responds, unsure what to make of all of Jo’s adjectives.

                “Man, when you crush, you don’t mess around.” The girl jokes as she steps on the gas to get through the yellow light. She looks over and notices Castiel’s face, asking, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

                “It’s frustrating. I like Dean a lot and he is, unfortunately, straight. Which means that my feelings are pointless and it’s… frustrating.” Castiel grumbles.

                Jo pulls up to Castiel’s large, two-story house and puts her car in park. “Your feelings are not pointless.” She begins, looking rather intense. Then, her face softens and she reaches over to give Castiel’s hand a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, though. It really sucks, but you’ll find someone. Who knows? Maybe Dean is super gay and he is just deep in the closet?”

                Castiel smiles at Jo as she waggles her eyebrows at him. “I doubt that, but appreciate your attempt to make me feel better.” He says lightly. “Oh, and it gets worse.”

                “What?”

                “Dean has asked me to tutor him. So, it appears I will be spending a great deal of time with him outside of school.”

                “Oh, man!” Jo’s eyes go wide as a smile spreads across her face.

                “What?”

                “You can make a move on your man!”

              “He is not ‘my man’ and—due to the fact that Dean is straight—I doubt I will be making any ‘moves.’” Castiel groans, placing air quotes around “my man” and “moves.” He still can’t help the flush that crosses his cheeks at the thought of making a move on Dean.

               Jo scoffs before letting a sad smile cross her face. “I know, Cas. Just… Don’t let yourself fantasize about “what if Dean were straight” and all that, okay? If you let yourself fall for him, it’s just gonna wind up hurting you and I don’t wanna see you hurt.” She says sincerely.

             Castiel smiles lightly over at Jo before opening his passenger side door. He climbs out and leans into the car to say, “Thank you.”

             Jo just shrugs one shoulder before Castiel closes the car door. He watches Jo drive away before checking the time on his cell phone. It’s three forty-five. He sighs and turns, heading to where Dean lives a couple blocks down.


	2. Two Worlds Collide

 

                “I don’t fucking _get_ this,” Dean groans, dramatically placing his forehead down on the open textbook in front of him.

                Castiel looks up from his own chemistry book, furrowing his eyebrows. “What part don’t you understand?”

                “All of it!” Dean’s reply is muffled.

                “You were doing fine, Dean.”

                “No. I was _pretending_ I understood.” Dean snaps into the spine of the book. He raises his head and frowns deeply at his hands in his lap. “I can’t do this.”

                Castiel frowns, eyes flitting back to his homework page filled with questions about electron sharing and diagrams. When his gaze returns to Dean, he catches Dean staring at the paper as though he can set it on fire with a glare alone. Cas snorts, causing Dean to look up and ask, “What?”

                “Nothing,” Castiel says as he picks up his pencil again, not wanting Dean to know he was staring at him. “Do you want to try again?”

                “No. Can’t we go back to english? I like those kids in _The Kite Runner_.”

                “Dean, we already completed the worksheets on the english homework. Besides, you were doing fine at the beginning of this worksheet—“

                “That’s because the first few problems were _easy_! I’m not—I don’t _understand_ this.” Dean exclaims with frustration.

                Castiel presses his lips together quietly. He looks down at his book, giving Dean time to cool off. A minute passes and he hears Dean sigh.

                “Sorry I keep snapping at you.” Dean mumbles. “I just… This is way above my head.”

                Castiel nods slowly. “It’s fine, Dean. I understand you are frustrated, but I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Look at number two; that is a more complex problem and you placed all the electrons in the correct orbits.”

                “Yeah, but I can’t get number three.”

                “Let’s skip number three, then.”

                Sam walks into the dining room where the two were working a few minute later, heading for the kitchen. “Heya, Sammy,” Dean says without looking up from where he was scribbling out the diagram for number ten on his chemistry assignment. Sam returns the greeting as he opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. He comes to a seat across from Dean and Castiel at the small table and looks at Dean’s tutor as he takes a drink of water.

                “Sam, this is Castiel. He’s helping me not be such an idiot.” Dean introduces, waving a hand in between the two of them. “Cas, this is my little brother Sammy.”

                “Sam.” The younger boy corrects his brother with a slight frown.

                “Hello, Sam,” Castiel greets the fourteen-year-old with a soft smile and a nod.

                “Hey, Castiel,” Sam returns with a smile. “Dean, what’s for dinner?”

                “Wha--?” Dean frowns, looking up from his homework and at the clock on the wall. It reads seven-thirty. “Man, sorry, I lost track of time and forgot to make something…”

                Castiel watches as Dean stands and heads to the old, white refrigerator, peering into it before checking his cabinets. He finally pulls a box of spaghetti noodles from a top shelf in one cabinet. Castiel smiles as Dean frowns at the noodle package. “Want spaghetti?” Dean asks Sam. The younger boy shrugs his shoulders in an I-don’t-care kind of way and Dean nods once before digging around for a pot.

                “Cas, uh, you can go if you need to. I’m sorry I kept you so long… I didn’t mean to.” Dean says over the clanging of pots and pans.

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s no trouble, Dean. I got much of my work done as well.”

                Dean stands, pot in-hand and suddenly looks unsure. He switches the pot from one hand to the other, asking, “Do you, uhm, do you wanna stay for dinner? I mean, I’m not the best cook, but I make spaghetti pretty okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You probably have other stuff to do, but you can stay if you want… for dinner.”

                Castiel smiles at Dean, noticing how he is not near as confident as he seems in school. He wants to say yes, but Jo’s warning flares in his head. This afternoon had been nice, helping Dean out, but he thinks that if he eats dinner with Dean, his crush will only grow stronger. So, Castiel looks down and starts stacking his books. “Thank you, but I should be getting home.” He says as he places his books into his backpack.

                “Oh… Okay,” Dean’s voice sounds somewhat crestfallen and Castiel looks up, but the Winchester’s face looks calm and cool. “Well, thanks for the help. Can you  help me study on Thursday night for the test Friday?”

                Castiel stands and hoists his back up onto his shoulders. “Yes, Dean. Four o’clock?”

                “Yeah, uh, but can we meet at your place?” Dean asks, gaze flicking towards Sam.

                Castiel sees the brothers share an unspoken look of understanding before Dean looks back to where he is pouring water into the pot. “Yes, that will be fine.” Castiel responds quizzically, wondering what the look between brothers meant. “I live a couple blocks down. One-fourteen Hillcrest.”

                Dean nods as he sets the pot of water on top of the flames of the stove. “Okay, see ya then,”

                The week flew by and it is Thursday night before Castiel even knew it. Jo had been giving him concerned-friend look all day, but Castiel pretended to be totally neutral about the entire ordeal. “I am not allowing myself to fall for him, I’m merely helping a fellow student improve his studies. That’s all.” He had told her at lunch earlier that day.

                She had shot him a disbelieving look. “Right. And this ‘fellow student’ just happens to be the guy you have been hardcore crushing on for how long now?”

                Castiel had pressed his lips together. “I am not hardcore crushing. I know that I have no hopes of being more than friends with Dean. I am not fooling myself, Jo,” he mumbled, forking his spaghetti around with a huff.

                Jo had just placed her hand on his shoulder and softly said, “I’m sorry, Cas… I just don’t want you hurt.”

                The bell rings overhead, signaling the end of last period. Castiel stands up and gathers his papers before walking into the hallway. He grabs his backpack out of his locker and hoists it over one shoulder before making his way out to where the school bus is parked outside the school. He is making his way to the large, yellow bus when the rumbling of an engine grows closer. He hears his name being called from the other side of the bus. Castiel frowns and circles around the front of the bus to see Dean leaning out of the driver’s side window of a classic, Chevrolet. He smiles at Castiel.

                “Wanna ride?” Dean asks, lips quirking up into a smile.

                Castiel internally debates for a moment. The school bus was smelly and hot and full of people he didn’t particularly care for, but Dean was charming and handsome and his crush on the other boy had yet to waiver. “Yes, please,” he finds himself saying.

                “Cool,” Dean says as he leans back into the car.

                Castiel sees that Sam is seated in the passenger seat up front, so he pulls open the door to the car’s backseat and lowers himself into the vehicle.

                Dean pulls out of the school lot, glancing at Castiel in the rearview mirror. “We still studying at your place?”

                “Yes,” Castiel meets Dean’s gaze in the mirror before looking at his backpack that lies on the seat beside him.

                “Okay, we just gotta drop Sammy off at home first.”

                “It’s _Sam_.” The younger Winchester groans, but he’s smiling at his older brother still.

                Castiel sees that there is a large, black pickup in the Winchester’s driveway and he assumes that means the boys’ father is home. Sam clambers out of the car, leaving the door open for Castiel to switch from backseat to front seat. Castiel is walking to the front seat as Dean calls after Sam, “Hey, you call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll try to be home before seven.”

                “Okay,” Sam calls over his shoulder.

                Castiel and Dean drive to Cas’s house in silence except for Castiel’s brief directions. They pull into the driveway and Dean releases a low whistle. “This is _your_ house?”

                Castiel nods and gives his home a once-over. “Yes, Dean,”

                “Damn. This is, like, the nicest house in town.” Dean comments as he shuts off his car and gets out.

                “My father likes to keep it clean..?” Castiel skeptically explains as he pulls his house key from his front pocket. “I suppose it’s rather large, but he wanted a lot of rooms for guests and my brothers and sister if they should ever return home for a visit.”

                “You have siblings?” Dean is still gaping at the two story, navy blue and white home.

                “Yes,” Castiel stands in the doorway, motioning for Dean to come inside the house.

                As Castiel leads Dean through the foyer, past the kitchen and into the dining room, the other boy is looking around with his mouth agape. Dean picks up random decorations along the way and Castiel finds himself slightly amused at Dean’s apparent need to touch everything. Dean notices Castiel glancing at him and quickly sets aside the glass sculpture of a bird he had been looking at. “Sorry,” he coughs, following Castiel to the large, rectangular dining room table.

                As Castiel is grabbing his books out, Dean asks, “How many siblings do you _have_?”

                Castiel mentally counts. “Four; I have three brothers and one sister.”

                “Oh,” Dean huffs as he sets out his chemistry book and notes and takes a seat in the dining room chair beside his tutor. “Big family, huh?” He gestures to the ten empty chairs that remain.

                “I suppose. My father likes to make sure there’s room for everyone during the holidays.”

                “That’s, uh, that’s nice,” Dean murmurs before he pulls out his study guide.

                Castiel and Dean bury themselves in their studies. Castiel finishes his algebra and advanced English assignments as Dean works through the chemistry study guide. Every so often, Dean will tentatively ask for help on a question. Castiel looks up every so often, taking in Dean’s face as he concentrates on his homework. The Winchester’s full lips are puffed out in a pout and his eyebrows are furrowed, causing a small indentation between them. His freckles are splashed across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Candy-apple green eyes flit up and catch Castiel staring.

                “What?” Dean asks, arching an eyebrow.

                “Nothing,” Castiel feels his cheeks burning and he ducks his head to his completed English homework, pretending to erase an error that isn’t there.

                Castiel expects Dean to egg him on, but all Dean says is “okay” before returning to his homework. Castiel chances a sidelong glance at Dean and thinks he sees the boy’s lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. But it’s gone before Castiel can blink. He pushes aside his completed English and pulls out the novel his English class is reading. Dean asks for help again and Cas sets aside the book to explain protons and neutrons and the charges of atoms when Castiel’s father returns home.

                “Castiel?” his father’s deep, bass voice echoes from the doorway.

                “I’m in the dining room,” Castiel barely raises his voice, not wanting to yell in Dean’s ear.

                “Castiel, whose car is in the driveway? Do you have company?” Mr. Novak’s voice grows closer and he is in the dining room a second later. He smiles politely at Dean.

                “This is Dean. He’s my—“ Castiel stops short because he doesn’t know if Dean considers them friends or not, “I’m tutoring him in chemistry.”

                “That’s nice,” His father says, loosening his tie and pulling it off. “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel’s father, Mr. Novak.”

                Dean takes the hand that Mr. Novak extends, saying, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

                “Well, I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Castiel’s dad says to his son before turning to Dean. “Help yourself to anything, Dean. If you need anything, just ask Castiel and I’m sure we can help you out.”

                “Thank you, sir,” Dean nods once and turns back to his book as Mr. Novak heads out of the room. Once he’s gone, Dean turns to Castiel and says, “Your dad’s a pretty cool guy.”

                “Thank you,” Castiel slowly responds, not really sure how to accept a compliment that is for his father.

                Dean laughs lightly, tapping his pencil. “So, where are your brothers and sister? I’ve never seen ‘em around school or anything.”

                “Oh, they’re all older than me and graduated from another school. Remember I moved here just this year?” Castiel asks jokingly.

                Dean shoves his arm lightly. “Don’t be a smartass. I was just wondering if they were older or younger.” Dean smiles.

                “They’re older. My brother Michael is twenty-four and is at Stanford getting his master’s degree. Luke is twenty-three and he owns a bakery in Palmdale, California. Anna is twenty-two and… Gabriel is twenty and he’s at the University of Texas State.” Castiel tells Dean.

                Dean looks interested and he asks, “What about Anna? What’s she doing?”

                “Nobody really knows. She just up and left when she was eighteen… She kind of just travels and takes odd jobs, I suppose. She only really comes home on Christmas occasionally.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling Dean this. He hopes Dean doesn’t find it weird that he’s sharing this much. He looks over and sees that Dean looks interested and slightly concerned, so Castiel just shrugs. “She seems happy, though, so that’s all that matters.”

                “I guess,” Dean quietly replies. “What kinda music do you like?”

                Castiel finds himself lying on his stomach on the living room floor while Dean sprawls across the couch. They each have game controllers in their hands and are engrossed in the combat game on screen called _International Warfare 3._ Dean had been highly impressed with Castiel’s video game collection, saying that he hadn’t expected him to like video games. Castiel laughs as Dean fumbles with his controller after an intense battle sequence.

                “This isn’t funny! I almost got ganked!” Dean exclaims as he makes his character duck behind some rubble to avoid an explosion.

                Castiel laughs harder at Dean’s frustration, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from the blonde boy. “It’s just a game, Dean,” Castiel says, clicking some buttons.

                “No, this is real! This is… International Waaaaarfaaaare!” Dean exclaims, mimicking the voice from the introduction of the game.

                Castiel explodes in laughter from Dean’s horrible impression. He can no longer look at the television monitor and sets his controller aside, rolling onto his side and laughing harder. He hears Dean join in, laughing as well. “That was—That was terrible!” Castiel chokes out between hoots of laughter. Dean’s laughter gets louder when Castiel says that.

                The voiceover from the game exclaims, “You have been teeeerminated!”

                Dean mimics the voice again and Castiel laughs so hard that tears spring into his eyes. He wipes his eyes and rolls to a seat, letting his laughter die down. Dean is smiling down at him from the sofa. Castiel smiles lightly back up at him. Dean brakes the eye contact, coughing a couple times. He pulls his cell phone out and frowns at the screen. Castiel pushes himself to his feet as Dean stands.

                “Uh, thanks for the help on my homework.” Dean is saying as he makes his way back into the dining room.

                “It’s no problem, Dean.” Castiel replies as he watches Dean haphazardly shove his schoolwork into his backpack.

                “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer, but it’s past seven and my dad’s…” he waves his hand dismissively. “But thanks, Cas. You’re the best.”

                Dean claps a hand on Castiel’s shoulder before hustling out of the house. Castiel smiles and begins picking up his homework.

                The next day at school, Castiel sees Dean walking with in the hallway after lunch. He goes up to the two, saying hello to Sam as the two brothers suddenly ceased their quiet talking.

                “How did the test go?” he asks, falling into step with Dean.

                “Uh, I think it actually went really great.” Dean says with a shy smile, not turning to face Castiel. He keeps his head lowered as he explains, “I mean, I know I passed, so that’s friggin’ awesome, but I still don’t know covalent bonds.”

                Castiel nods and Sam waves goodbye as he ducks into his classroom. Dean walks with Castiel a little while longer before clearing his throat. “You coming to the game tonight?” he asks, staring at his shoes.

                “Is it here or out of town?” Castiel tries to catch Dean’s gaze.

                “It’s a home game. We’re playing Skyline, they’re pretty good, but I think we can beat ‘em.” Dean says with a shrug and he finally meets Castiel’s gaze with a cocky smile. “How can they stand a chance against me? I’m an awesome running back and an International Warfare 3 assassin.”

                Castiel’s smile waivers because on the lower left side of Dean’s jawline there is a large, greenish-yellow bruise.


	3. Wrong Feels So Right

 

                Castiel sits in the football stands, hands clasped around the one dollar cup of hot coca he had bought from the concession stand. Tendrils of steam rise from the cup and sway in the cold, autumn night. Castiel sits quietly in between Jo and Sam; both are, apparently, very verbal during football games. Sam cheers and whistles anytime Dean is put in the game or makes a good play. Jo, on the other hand, prefers to holler insults at the referees whenever they flag the home team.

                “What?!” Jo screams as she leaps to her feet. Her purple scarf hits Castiel in the ear. “You’re not gonna flag that?! That was a _penalty_ , you dumbass!”

                Castiel sees that a mother to their right is scowling at Jo’s language and Sam is snickering on his left. Castiel turns back to the game as Jo dramatically falls to her seat beside him. Dean is in the game and he focuses on the older Winchester and the large, yellow “3” that is spread across the back of his black jersey. He sips his hot chocolate, trying not to look too interested in order to prevent Jo from giving him the _you’re-falling-for-him-and-you-need-to-cut-ties-now_ speech. He knows that he’s falling hard, but lying to Jo and himself has seemed to work so far. So, he just tells himself that he doesn’t like Dean _that_ much. But he is already looking forward to their next tutoring session on Monday night.

                Castiel watches as Dean races past the opposing team’s defensive line and catches the football as it flies through mid-air. Sam claps his hand and cheers loudly. Castiel watches Dean swiftly dodge an attempt at a tackle as he closes in on the in-zone. Sam’s cheering comes to a dead stop when Dean is sent flying sideways in a tackle by a boy the size of a small bull. The crowd “oooh’s” and rises to their feet and Sam hops up, face splashed with concern as he tippy-toes to see over the head of a balding man in front of him. Castiel finds himself standing, too. He watches as the bull-boy climbs off of Dean and high-fives one of his teammates in navy blue. Castiel frowns deeply before watching as Dean scrambles to his feet shakily. Sam breathes a sigh of relief and sits back down as does Cas and most of the crowd.

                “That was so illegal.” Jo grumbles loudly. “Did you see that guy grab Dean’s jersey? I’m pretty sure he grabbed his jersey! _And_ the little high-five was poor sportsmanship.”

                Castiel, Sam, and Jo rise to their feet as the band continues playing their school song in triumph. Sam is smiling widely; Dean had scored the winning touchdown with only twenty seconds left of the game. Castiel shoves his hands in the pockets of his overcoat as a gust of cold wind rushes around him. Jo loops her arm through Castiel’s with a grin and the three descend from the bleachers with the rest of the crowd.

                “So, Sam,” Jo says as they get to the gate, “d’ya need a ride? Or do you have some friends picking you up?”

                Sam shakes his head as he zips up his charcoal grey hoodie. “Dean’s giving me a ride home,” he says, jerking his head towards the locker room.

                Jo furrows her brow and chuckles lightly in amusement and Castiel asks her, “What?”

                “Dean’s not going to Alan’s?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

                Sam shrugs. “I mean, sometimes he goes. But he usually drives me home first.”

                Castiel nods thoughtfully, then sees Dean approaching from behind Sam. The boy is out of his pads and protective gear and has on baggy, black gym shorts and a Black Sabbath tee-shirt. His face is flushed from the cold and sweat still sheens on his brow from the game. His blonde hair is sticking every which way and Castiel feels his heart speed up in his chest. He hears Jo cough loudly beside him and he immediately looks at his shoes.

                “Good game, Dean,” Jo compliments the boy after he’s finished messing up Sam’s hair.

                “Thanks,” Dean smiles up at Jo and Castiel notices Dean’s gaze flit from Jo to Cas to their entwined arms as his eyebrows furrow momentarily.

                “You should have knocked out that ass who tackled you, though.” Jo says with a shrug. “His move was totally illegal.”

                Dean scoffs. “Yeah, well, I didn’t wanna embarrass the guy in front of his friends by beating his ass and by beating him in the game.”

                Castiel’s eyes meet Dean’s and he smiles lightly.

                Sam looks up at Dean and asks, “Taco Bell?”

                “Oh, uh, yeah,” Dean breaks his gaze from Castiel’s for a moment. “We always go to Taco Bell after home games.” He bumps shoulders with Sam before his eyes lock with Castiel’s once more. “Do ya’ll wanna join us?”

                “Yes, that seems nice.” Castiel agrees, ignoring the way Jo’s arm kind of elbows him in the ribs.

                At Taco Bell, Castiel grabs his cup and looks around to find where everyone is sitting. He finally sees them in a booth and raises his eyebrows at Jo, who is sitting beside Sam. Leaving only the seat beside Dean empty. Jo sees his gaze and gives him a helpless shrug. Castiel breathes in deeply through his nose and walks to the booth to sit beside Dean. As soon as Cas sits down, though, the employee yells out Dean’s order number. Castiel stands up to let Dean pass and flushes bright red when Dean bumps into him as he gets up. He steps back from Dean, backing into a man who pushes Castiel forwards. Which causes Castiel to trip into Dean.

                “Sorry, man,” Dean chuckles, rubbing his neck and sidestepping around Castiel.

                Jo is hiding a fit of laughter behind some really fake-sounding coughs while Castiel resists his sudden urge to flee the fast-food establishment. Dean returns with his and Sam’s trays of food and Castiel sits beside Dean once more. Once they all get their orders, the table gets quieter as they begin eating their tacos, burritos, and (in Sam’s case) salads.

                Dean takes a long drink of his soda before turning to Castiel. “Hey, uh, thanks for coming to my game,” he coughs with a small grin.

                Castiel nods as he chews slowly, processing what Dean said and what he is going to say in response. “It’s no problem, Dean. I enjoyed the game. Except when you got tackled, of course.” He says finally with a noncommittal shrug as he turns back to his burrito. Trying to seem nonchalant.

                This sends Jo off on a long tangent about the “punk-ass refs” which Castiel is grateful for. He feels Dean’s gaze land on him a couple times, but he pretends to be completely invested in consuming his burrito. As Jo and Dean discussed plays and illegal moves, Sam’s name is called from across the dining area.

                “Hey, Dean, is it cool if I go hang out with my friends?” Sam asks, gathering up his trash eagerly.

                “Yeah, man,” Dean nods as Sam scoots out of the booth. “Just call me if you need a ride home or anything.” Sam is skidding across the dining area to a small group of kids his age and Dean calls out, “Sam! Be home before one!”

                “Okay!” Sam says as he waves and follows his friends outside.

                “So, uh, what are you two doing tonight?” Dean’s question draws Castiel’s attention. The way Dean says ‘you two’ sounds like he assumes that he and Jo are a couple. He wants to correct Dean, but knows that wouldn’t change Dean’s sexuality so he just shrugs.

                “Well, I’m probably going home soon.” Jo says as she crumbles up her wrapper. “I’m exhausted.”

                “Alright, Rip Van Winkle,” Dean jokes with Jo. When Dean looks from Jo to Cas, he notices a small change in Dean’s expression. “What about you? Want to go to Alan’s with me?”

                Castiel hesitates for a split second and opens his mouth to respond when Dean blabbers, “Or we could just hang out or whatever. We don’t have to go to Alan’s party.”

                Castiel looks from Jo to Dean. He is going to say no. He’s going to ask Jo for a ride home and say good-bye to Dean and ‘maybe next time.’ “We can go to Alan’s,” he hears himself say.

                He sees Dean’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Really? Okay, cool.” Dean smiles broadly.

                The three teenagers scoot out of their seats at the booth and head to the exit doors. Castiel feels Jo’s gaze and looks over to meet her hazel eyes. She gives him a warning look as they step out into the cold. She backs to her car, waving ‘good-bye’ to them and then calling, “Be _careful_!”

                Castiel ducks his chin to her in a swift nod. Dean calls back, “Don’t be such a _mom_ , Harvelle!”

                As Dean drives through the city, Castiel feels slightly more uneasy. Why had he agreed to go to Alan’s? He didn’t even know Alan. He fidgets with the lapels of his tan coat and looks out the window as the lights from houses and businesses become few and far between. Def Leppard is quietly playing in the car, keeping it from being dead silent. Dean clears his throat after a while and Castiel turns to look at him.

                “Alan lives _way_ outta town,” Dean says, lifting a hand from the wheel to gesture at the empty fields and old warehouses they are driving past.

                Castiel nods his head, responding, “I can see that.”

                Dean’s chuckle seems… self-conscious? Castiel’s brow crinkles as he looks at Dean in the dark car. “Oh, yeah… Uh, well, anyway…” Dean stammers, “Do you know Alan?” When Castiel shakes his head, Dean begins describing the party’s host. “Okay, uh, he plays on defense. Pretty tall and he has brownish-red hair? He’s kind of an asshole, but I just try to stay out of his way.”

                “So, you don’t like Alan?” Castiel queries, lifting an eyebrow as he notes the slightly dark look that passes over Dean's features when talking about the other teen.

                Dean turns off the road and into an already-crowded front lawn of a large, two-story brick home. “Dude, no one likes Alan except his girlfriend and Gordon.” He replies, managing his face into a somewhat neutral mask before shutting off the engine.

                “Why do people come to his home, then?” Castiel follows Dean’s lead and steps out of the car.

                “He throws one hell of a party.”

                There are throngs of teenagers gathered on the front lawn, throughout the house, and in and around the pool out back. Castiel takes in the sight as he shadows Dean; he has never really been to a party before. Sure, he’s picked Jo up a couple of times. But he has never attended such an event. It didn’t really fit into his blend-in-and-get-through-high-school-unnoticed plan very well. He assumes there are speakers installed everywhere in the house because the music never seems to fade, the bass pulsing through his veins. Everyone is yelling or hooting at each other in the living room, the sofas and coffee table pushed against the walls in order for people to dance. All the lights are off except a few lamps here and there, making it hard for Castiel to follow Dean. He bumps into a couple and begins apologizing before he realizes that the two are too busy making out to notice him.

                Castiel pushes past a group of girls grinding on each other until he emerges and is in the kitchen. There is a large, glass bowl full of red liquid that is half empty sitting on the kitchen’s island. A girl is dipping a clear, plastic cup into the juice and manages to spill half her drink on the counter in the process. Empty and unopened beer cans and bottles are scattered on every area of counter space in the large, granite covered kitchen. Castiel watches as Dean greets two boys wearing football jerseys with a loud yell. The two boys yell back as one slaps Dean on the back and the other hands him a bottle of beer that he eagerly accepts.

                “Your touchdown was pretty great, Dean!” the larger of the two boys yells over the music.

                “Well, you did awesome at defense, Bennie!” Dean returns before taking a long pull on his drink.

                Bennie shoves Dean’s shoulder playfully. “Aw, you’re makin’ me blush!”

                The other boy guffawed before grabbing another beer and pushing it against Dean’s chest. “Alright, Dean-o, time to get this party started.”

                Dean smiles over at Castiel across the kitchen’s island, raising one of the two beers in a salute. Castiel notices how the dim lights make Dean’s bruised jaw look green-ish. Castiel smiles awkwardly in return as the two other boys’ gazes flit to him. “Cas! C’mere!” Dean calls, spilling his beer as he gestures largely.

                Castiel weaves through a few of his peers and comes to stand before Dean. Dean introduces his friends as Benny and Gordon. Castiel nods to them politely and says, “Nice to meet you both. I’m Castiel.”

                Gordon sneers at him. “Cas _tiel_?” he leers with a snort. “Well, Cas-tee-elle, have a drink!”

                Cas frowns at the obvious mockery of his name, but has no time to react before an opened bottle of beer is shoved into his previously-empty hands. He takes the bottle in his hands and feels Gordon’s judgemental gaze on him. His eyes flit up to Gordon’s face, then Benny’s, then Dean’s. Castiel has never drank alcohol. He has always been scared of the unknown, of disobeying the laws. “Hey, man, if you don’t wanna drink, you don’t have to.” Dean says as he meets Castiel’s wide-eyed gaze. This somehow makes Castiel feel more self-conscious, especially since Gordon snorts. Castiel shakes his head at Dean and lifts the bottle to his lips, willing to prove himself. The cold liquid covers his tongue and slides down his throat. And he has to force his face to remain neutral about it; beer happens to be pretty disgusting.  

                “Looks like you aren’t half bad,” Gordon says with a sneer before downing his beer and heading for the fridge.

                Castiel ignores the worried looks Dean is shooting him and takes another sip from the glass bottle in his hand. “So, Castiel,” Benny addresses him with a kind smile and a tip of his own cup of alcohol, “how d’ya know my buddy here? Can’t say I’ve ever seen you ‘round school before.”

                “I tutor Dean after school,” Castiel replies loudly over the guitar solo of the current song playing. “I also just moved to this school this year, which is why you probably have not seen me around.”

                “You’re his tutor? Maybe you can help me out one day after school with that English project we got?” Benny says with a drawl. Castiel searches his face to see if the southern boy is being malicious in any way, but all he hears is sincerity.

                “Cas is also, like, my friend. Not just my tutor.” Dean declares before Castiel can reply to Benny. Dean shoots him a lopsided grin before tipping his bottle back and downing his second beer.

                Castiel wants to say that he considers Dean his friend as well, but instead he just smiles faintly at his shoes.

                Dean is drunk within thirty minutes. He had drank his two beers, finished Castiel’s for him, and gotten himself involved in a game of Flip Cup which he happened to be astoundingly horrible at. All that time, Dean would stare at Castiel periodically. Castiel lost him after Dean retreated to 'find some whiskey' and Cas is now wandering through the home of Alan. Castiel climbs up the stairs, stepping around a few teens who are sitting on the steps and chatting. He doesn't know why he wants to look around this boy’s home, but he can’t find Dean and doesn’t know many of these people well enough to talk to them so this seems to be his only option.

                The house is nice, cluttered and crowded as it might be. Castiel suspects that Alan’s family is well off from the expensive-looking paintings that hang on the walls upstairs and the large, luxurious bedrooms he peeped into (one of which containing a couple which caused Castiel to slam the door and retreat). Castiel makes his way back downstairs and into the kitchen. He finds an empty cup and pours himself a glass of tap water. He’s taking a sip when a hand claps on his shoulder.

                “Hey, uh, Cas?” Benny’s voice accompanies the hand and Castiel turns to face Dean’s friend.

                “Yes, Benny?”

                “Can you take Dean home?” Benny pauses and looks conflicted, like maybe he’s telling Castiel something he shouldn’t be. “He’s had too much and… sometimes he gets pretty bad. And, uh, I don’t want him drivin’ like this.”

                “Yes, I can. Where is he?” Castiel asks, frowning a little and wondering what Benny meant by saying Dean ‘gets pretty bad.’

                Castiel heads outside and finds Dean sitting on the pool’s edge with his feet in the water—tennis shoes and all. The boy is doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees and clutching his head between his hands. Castiel frowns again and approaches Dean cautiously. He taps his friend’s shoulder and Dean raises his head slightly to look behind him. “Cas,” he smiles goofily at the dark-haired boy, patting the wet cement beside him.

                “Dean, I think we should go.” Castiel says, shivering in the cold of the night. It has gotten much colder since the party began and everyone had fled the cold and headed inside. All except Dean, apparently.

                “Aw, Cas, c’mon. We jus’ got ‘ere.” Dean whines, but he stands up all the same. His bare legs are dripping with water and Castiel sees goose bumps appear almost immediately on the exposed skin.

                Dean follows Castiel out of the back yard gate and to the front yard where his car is parked. There are significantly fewer vehicles parked around them and Castiel checks his cell phone for the time. Two-thirty in the morning. Dean is reaching into the gym shorts’ pocket and fumbling with his key ring. He drops it and curses under his breath before unsteadily bending over to pick the keys up. Castiel holds out his hand for them and Dean sheepishly hands the keys to Castiel, brushing his fingertips against the other boy’s open palm.

                Dean is quiet at first, but after a few minutes, Dean says, “Are you drunk, Cas?”

                “No, I did not consume any more alcohol than half of that beer Gordon gave me.”

                “I consumed a lot of beer. And some shots.”

                “I know, Dean,”

                “You say m’name lots, Cas,”

                “I’m sorry,” Castiel furrows his brow, wondering if he does say Dean’s name a lot or if Dean is just drunk and babbling.

                “’s okay. I like how you say it. It sounds… nice.”

                Castiel decides that Dean is drunk and babbling.

                “…Cas?”

                “Yes?”

                “Can I tell you something?” Dean’s voice is quiet and thoughtful.

                Castiel turns off the county road and looks over at Dean’s solemn face for a beat. He returns his gaze to the road and replies, “You can tell me anything, Dean.”

                “I, uh… you’re a very nice person.” Dean mumbles. Castiel’s gaze flits over to him and Dean is a deep shade of red. “I’m really glad you’re my friend, Cas… Cuz you’re a good person. Like, you’re so _good_. And I’m not good. And you are still friends with me.”

                “You are a good person, too,” Castiel interjects as the city lights come into view.

                “No, no, no,” Dean laughs and the laugh startles Castiel because it’s not Dean’s usual laugh. This laugh is dark and sad and more like he’s crying with a smile on his face. “You don’t know cuz you’re new here. You don’t know me.” Dean stops laughing and his face turns sour.

                Castiel remains quiet, unsure of what to say. He wants to object, but it is true; he doesn’t know Dean—not really. He doesn’t know Dean’s favorite food or where he’s planning to go after graduation or what his favorite color is. Castiel purses his lips as he pulls into Dean’s driveway, finally thinking of something to say.

                “I would like to get to know you… I’m glad I’m your friend, Dean.” He says, shutting off the ignition.

                Dean smiles wolfishly at Castiel. “I wanna know you, too, Cas,” he slurs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

                Castiel tilts his head at Dean’s remark, but doesn’t get a chance to do much else because Dean drunkenly scoots across the seat and grabs Castiel’s face in his hands. “Dean, what are—“ Castiel cannot even get out the rest of his frantic question. Dean’s lips collide with his own and Castiel freezes. _Dean is drunk. Dean is drunk and doesn’t know what he’s doing,_ he tells himself. Dean pulls away with a whine.

                “ _Please_ , kiss me, Cas,” the Winchester slurs into Castiel’s ear, sending shudders down his spine. “Please. I don’t wanna go home yet.”

                “Dean, you have to go home, okay? You’re drunk.” Castiel says in a controlled voice. He focuses on breathing—in and out, in and out—and controls his desires because _Dean is drunk and doesn’t know what he’s doing._

                “M’dad’s gonna _kill_ me cuz it’s past curfew.”

                “He won’t know if you’re really quiet when you go to your room, okay?” Castiel reasons with Dean, eager to remove Dean’s hands from around his neck. Eager to put distance between himself and Dean. Eager to get away from Dean because this is killing Castiel. He can’t take any more of Dean’s hot breath on his face or Dean’s fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

                “Can I kiss you g’bye?”

                Castiel sucks in a breath, weighing the options. How drunk is Dean? Is he so drunk that he’ll forget this happened? What if he remembers tomorrow? Would they still be friends? Castiel closes his eyes and mumbles, “I don’t think that us kissing is the smartest thing to do, Dean.”

                “But I like you.”

                “I like you, too, Dean, but you’ve gotta go home now.”

                Dean nods and releases Castiel before he crawls out of the Impala. Castiel gets out, too, placing the car keys in Dean’s hand before the boy staggers up to the front door. Castiel makes sure Dean gets inside before he shoves his hands in his coat pockets and walks two blocks in the cold to his house. His head is swimming and he tries not to think about how soft and warm Dean’s lips were against his own.


	4. Something That I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's taken me so long to update! School & my sorority & life have gotten in the way! I promise I'll try to focus on the more important things in life: high school AUs.

 

                All of Saturday goes by without any texts or calls from Dean. Castiel doesn’t know if Dean remembers the kiss or not and wonders if he should text Dean first and bring it up. He wonders if Dean regrets the kiss and if that is the reason he hasn’t texted. Castiel ponders whether or not he should tell Jo about the kiss, but decides not to until he sees her at school. Or maybe never. He stays at home all of Saturday night, finishing his homework and pacing and overthinking everything from the night prior. In the late afternoon of Sunday, Castiel’s worries about Dean never talking to him again are dismissed as his phone screen lights up with a message from the boy.

                Castiel huffs out a nervous sigh before opening the message.

                **_Can we talk?_** Is all it says.

                Castiel feels his heart speed up and he debates whether or not to text back for a couple minutes. He types out a few responses, erasing them before typing out an agreeing message that he hopes sounds nonchalant and hitting send. His phone vibrates in his shaking hands as another text from Dean pops up.

                **_I’m outside._**

                _Shit_. Shitshitshitshit. Castiel’s mind trips over itself in trying to think of anything other than the curse word. He launches himself off his bed and peers through the blinds to see Dean leaning against the black Impala in his driveway, cell phone in hand. The dark-haired boy trips over to his closet, ripping off the ratty camp shirt he had been wearing and putting on a navy tee covered by a blue, plaid flannel. He checks his hair in the mirror and sighs at its unruliness before slipping on some blue jeans and Sperry’s and racing downstairs. His hand is on the doorknob when terror grips his heart again. _What if Dean wants to end their friendship now? Does Dean_ know _? He couldn’t possibly know; Cas hadn’t kissed him back._ Castiel inhales deeply, puffing out his cheeks as he blows out the breath. He opens the door and steps outside, the crisp air rumpling his hair more.

                Dean looks up from his phone screen as Castiel shuts the door behind him, making brief eye contact before turning and walking around to the driver’s side. Castiel walks to the car, eyeing Dean questioningly, but the Winchester isn’t looking at him. Dean ducks into the car and Castiel quietly follows his lead. The car rumbles to life and Dean drives them down the street and away from the neighborhood.

                It’s quiet except for the purring of the car’s engine. Not even the radio is on. Castiel swallows down fear, worried that Dean can hear the frantic beating of his heart. He wrings his hands together, casting glances at Dean every couple of minutes. But Dean keeps his eyes on the highway as he weaves in and out of traffic. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes of silence pass before Dean clears his throat, startling Cas.

                “So, uh, you hungry?” Dean asks, eyes flitting over to Castiel for a split second. He has exited the highway and is on an empty stretch of road now.

                “Yes, I’m starting to get hungry…” Castiel manages to murmur as a small, red and white building comes into view.

                “Okay,” Dean says as he pulls into the parking lot of the red and white building that happens to be a dinky-looking diner.

                Castiel follows Dean into the restaurant, the aromas of bacon, syrup, and burgers basically smacking him in the face. Dean leads Castiel to a booth in the back corner and they sit opposite each other before an older woman comes up to them with two small mugs of coffee, smiling broadly. She’s in her late forties or early fifties, but her shoulder-length blonde hair shows no signs of greying and gives her a more youthful appearance.

                “Well, well, well,” she drawls as she sets the coffee in front of each of the boys, placing her hand holding her notepad on her hip, “look what the cat dragged in.”

                “Hey, Mrs. Singer,” Dean grins up at her as he reaches for the sugar and creamer at the end of the table.

                Castiel takes a moment to appreciate Dean’s smile; the boy has been completely poker-faced the whole drive. The waitress asks Dean about school and Dean’s face twists in displeasure. “It’s okay,” he shrugs.

                “You got your grades up, right?” the waitress asks, folding her arms and arching an eyebrow.

                “Yes, ma’am,” Dean nods and focuses his gaze on stirring his coffee, blushing slightly as he gestures to Castiel. “He, uh, he’s actually been helping me out a lot.”

                “Well, thank you for helping Dean,” Mrs. Singer turns to Castiel, extending her free hand to the boy. “I’m Karen Singer, who might you be?”

                Castiel takes her hand, shaking it while responding, “Uh, I’m Castiel.”

                “What an interesting name.” Karen gushes. “So, you and Dean must be pretty close, huh?”

                Dean chokes, bursting into a coughing fit and subsequently spewing coffee onto the table.

                Castiel frowns and feels slightly embarrassed from the question. “Why do you say that?”

                “Don’t spit, Dean. It’s rude,” she says before turning back to Castiel. “He doesn’t bring just anyone here. It’s usually just Sam, but a couple times—“

                “Uh, can we not talk about this right now?” Dean interrupts pleadingly.

                Castiel tries to catch Dean’s eye, but his green eyes are trained on the task of cleaning the coffee off the diner’s white table with a paper napkin he pulled from the dispenser. Mrs. Singer sighs softly, replying, “Okay, Dean. Well, the menus are right there,” she points with her pen at the end of the table by the window, “but I’m assuming Dean here will have his usual?”

                “Yes, ma’am,” Dean softly smiles.

                “Alrighty, just wave me down when you both are ready to order.” The woman says before going to check on the only other person in the diner.

                Dean coughs lightly and Castiel turns from the menu he has grabbed to see Dean’s eyes flitting up to meet his. “I, uh… She’s a family friend. Basically my family.” He explains. “Her husband is Bobby. He’s, uh, he’s like a dad to me and Sam. Not that we don’t have a dad, but Bobby’s just… Really close.”

                Castiel nods quietly with a furrowed brow. He’s not used to seeing Dean so flustered. Dean averts his eyes again and rubs the back of his neck almost bashfully. Castiel takes a sip of his coffee, preferring it black.

                “You said you wanted to talk.” He says and Dean’s head jerks up, bright green eyes wide. “Do you still want to talk?”

                “Uh, yeah, I do…” Dean mumbles, hands fiddling with the empty packets of creamer on the table. “I, uhm, wanted to apologize for the… For what happened at the party.”

                Castiel nods and ducks his head to look at his coffee mug. The small flicker of hope that Dean had actually _wanted_ to kiss him being extinguished completely. Like a lit candle being hit by a tsunami wave. But why did he even allow himself to hope that, anyway? Dean was straight, is straight, and will remain straight. Castiel feels embarrassment and anger towards himself growing in his chest.

                “It’s okay. You were drunk and didn’t know what you were doing.” Castiel replies evenly, his face completely free of emotion as he meets Dean’s gaze.

                “Well, I did know what I was doing. And isn’t that the problem?” Dean says with a furrowed brow. He squeezes the bridge of his nose, drops his head, and continues, “It just… _It’s not a good thing_. I mean, there is no excuse for that. I’ve heard it’s like a disease or something.”

                Castiel feels his face burning as the anger at himself turns to anger at Dean. “What.” He snaps, voice tight.

                Dean’s head jerks up, catching Castiel’s tone. “What?” he asks, confusion covering his face.

                “ _A disease_?” Castiel spits. “It’s a _disease_?!”

                “Well, it’s not proven, but Sam said that it shows up in bloodwork when past relatives have been—“

                “You dick.”

                Dean reels back as though he has been struck physically.

                “You know what? I thought you were different. I thought you were a nice guy. But then you go and jerk me around. To what? Use me as some kind of _experiment_ because you’re confused?” Castiel snarls defensively, getting out of the booth. “You’re just like everyone else! This is why I can’t even be myself! I can’t believe I actually—“ he stops short, turns on his heel and begins to stomp away.

                Dean scoots out of the booth, hitting his knees on the table and awkwardly fumbling to catch up with Castiel as the boy storms to the diner’s front door. “What are you _talking_ about, Cas?” he exclaims as he grabs a hold of Cas’s bicep.

                Castiel whips around, jerking his arm free of Dean’s grip. He knows that Karen, the lone patron of the diner, and the other waitress on staff are watching them, but he doesn’t care. “If you regretted kissing me, you could have just said so. You didn’t have to be an ass because you’re confused about your sexuali—“

                “Wait! Whoa! Whoa! _Whoa_!” Dean exclaims, eyebrows almost touching his hairline as he waves his hands frantically. “You think this is about _the kiss_? That I was talking about _the kiss_?”

                Castiel’s mouth snaps shut, teeth clicking together audibly.

                “Cas,” Dean says quietly, stepping cautiously towards Castiel, “I was… I was apologizing for drinking so much… Because I’m a… you know. Not about the kiss.”

                “What..?”

                “Can we…?” Dean gestures to their booth sheepishly.

                Castiel obliges and follows Dean back to the table. They’re quiet for a moment before Dean leans over the table slightly and begins, “I was telling you… That, uh, that I’ve got… I drink too much sometimes.” Dean flounders, looking ashamed as he stirs the now-cold coffee around. “At the party. Benny told you to get me, didn’t he?”

                “Yeah, he said you ‘got bad’ sometimes.” Castiel quietly responds, using air quotes.

                Dean laughs humorlessly. “Yeah… I’ve gotten in some trouble because of that shit before and…” he pauses, pressing his lips together.

                “And what?”

                Dean shakes his head and suddenly Mrs. Singer’s voice is at Castiel’s side. “Is everything alright, boys?” she sounds concerned as she sets two glasses of water in front of the boys.

                Castiel meets Dean’s gaze before looking up at the waitress. “Yes, ma’am, we’re okay,” he responds.

                “Well, are you ready to order?” she segues out of that topic and Castiel is so grateful.

                “Yes, I am. I would like the turkey sandwich with a side of fruit.”

                “Good choice.” She winks at Castiel before giving Dean a scolding look. “Dean, I’ve already got your burger grilling.”

                “Thank you,” Dean’s lips lilt into a weak smile.

                Mrs. Singer walks away and Castiel returns his gaze back to Dean.

                “Anyway, I have a problem.” Dean spits the words out as if they’re a bad taste in his mouth. “And when we… Uh, when I… What happened in the driveway… I’m not sorry that I kissed you.” He grows bolder when he says the last sentence, sitting up straighter. “I just wanted to tell you that I still want us to be friends and I hope I didn’t ruin that. I know you don’t feel that way and were probably annoyed that you had to babysit me and had to deal with me kissing you… It was something I had to do, though. I swear it won’t happen again.”

                Castiel feels a smile spreading across his face as Dean confesses this to him. He knows he looks like an idiot, smiling wildly. “Dean.” He says and the athletic teen looks up at him. Castiel feels a slight nervousness in his gut, but forces himself to reveal, “I don’t mind if it happens again.”

                Dean freezes, staring at Castiel. “What--? Do you… Are you..?”

                “I’m… gay.”

                “And you like _me_?” Dean sounds even more perplexed when he asks this.

                “Very much.”

                “Oh.” Dean blushes feverishly.

                Karen walks up with a tray full of their food, setting each plate in front of the boys. She says a few words before walking towards a table that has recently been taken by a mother and daughter. Castiel sips his coffee again, thinking over this recent turn of events. He smiles around the lip of the mug at Dean. “So,” Dean exhales with a coy look on his face, “you, uh, you wanna, I don’t know, date or something?”

                Castiel feels his heart skip a beat and he lets out a short burst of laughter. Dean looks at him quizzically before Castiel nods. “Yes, Dean, I’d like that very much.”

                “Awesome,” Dean breathes, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

                The two eat their meals silently for a while, just looking up at each other to smile at each other every so often. Halfway through his burger, Dean pauses, a contemplative look crossing his face. “Hey, Cas?” he asks, setting aside the plump burger.

                Castiel swallows the bite of fries he had been chewing as looks at Dean, waiting for him to continue.

                “Uh, are you… Uh, are you, you know, _out_?” Dean asks, rubbing the back of his neck while he looks at Castiel from under his light brown lashes.

                “What?” Castiel tilts his head, not quite grasping whatever Dean is trying to say.

                “You’re gay,” Dean says in a hushed tone. “But, like, are you outta the ‘closet?’” He uses air quotes around the word closet.

                “Oh! Uh, no, actually,” Castiel states, picking at his crispy French fries. “You and my friend Jo are the only ones who know about my sexual orientation.”

                Dean nods, picking a few sesame seeds off his burger’s top bun. “Yeah, I’m not out, either.” He murmurs. “If we—If we date, do you want to be out?” he asks and Castiel can feel the nervous energy radiating from Dean’s side of the booth.

                Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet.” He decides. “And I don’t want to ask you to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

                “No, uh, it’s not… I mean, uh, I—“ Dean snaps his mouth shut before breathing deeply and starting over, “I would be out. If you wanted us to be. I would.”

                Castiel gapes at Dean, knowing how big a decision coming out would be and wondering why Dean would risk so much for him. He forces his mouth closed and shakes his head. “Why? Why would you do that for me?” he blurts out, his thoughts unable to stay inside his head.

                “I guess it’s because you’re pretty hot,” Dean says around a bite of a French fry. “Plus, I guess I like you a lot.”

                Castiel flushes at Dean’s statements, eyes crinkling as he smiles broadly. “Well, you’re pretty handsome yourself, Dean.” He adds and watches as Dean shakes his head, popping a few more fries in his mouth.

                Dean and Cas resume eating their food in giddy silence. When Dean finishes his burger, he pushes the plate away from him and says, “Wanna play the question game?”

                “What’s that?” Castiel asks, drinking from his glass of water that is coated in cool condensation.

                “Well, I ask you a question and then you answer it and ask me a question.” Dean says with a shrug of his left shoulder. “It’s a way to, like, get to know more about each other.”

                “Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll play,”

                “Alright,” Dean folds his hands and sets them on the table in front of himself. “What’s your favorite color?”

                Castiel takes a bite of his sandwich and thinks for a while. He swallows and says, “I like yellow and blue and green. What’s your favorite color?”

                “Blue, probably.” Dean replies with a smile. “What’s your favorite movie?”

                “Uhm… I don’t know. I don’t watch many movies.”

                “You don’t watch movies?” Dean sounds personally offended.

                Castiel shakes his head. “I like to read.”

                “Okay, then, what is your favorite book?” Dean restates his previous question.

                “I like _The Catcher in the Rye_ … And _Lord of the Rings_ ,”

                “You are such a nerd, Cas.” Dean teases playfully.

                Castiel eats a couple of his fries and shrugs. “Do you have any favorite books? Or do you read?”

                “Yeah, I read. Uh, I really liked _The Road_ by that McCarthy guy.” Dean responds, unlacing his fingers to trace shapes in the condensation on his glass of water.

                Castiel’s eyebrows raise half an inch and Dean laughs self-consciously, saying, “I know. It’s a shock that I actually read more than sports magazines, right?”

                “What? No, Dean, that book was just… _not_ my favorite.” Castiel says honestly and Dean scoffs. “But you are _very_ intelligent.”

                “Well, uh…. It’s my turn,” Dean changes the subject, leaving Castiel frowning at him. “Favorite kind of music?”

                “I like all kinds. What’s your favorite song?” Castiel asks; he already knows that Dean is obsessed with classic rock.

                “Oh, man, that’s tough…” Dean sighs, leaning his head back to gaze at the tiled ceiling. “‘Carry On Wayward Son’ by Kansas, definitely.  And ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns N Roses. Oh! And ‘Faithfully’ by Journey is pretty sweet.”

                Castiel nods, mentally noting to look up the last two songs since he has never heard them.

                “Have you ever dated a guy before?” Dean asks, quirking an eyebrow.

                “Besides you now?” Castiel asks and Dean lets out a short chuckle. “No. Have you?”

                “Uh, not really.” Dean says. “I mean… I’ve been on dates with a couple guys, but… They didn’t turn out well.” He says evasively.

                Castiel nods, sensing that Dean is uncomfortable with this subject. Who wants to discuss their exes with their new significant other, right?

                “Have you ever been kissed?” Dean’s mouth is pulled into a smirk, right eyebrow raised.

                “Once, in fifth grade some girl kissed me at a birthday party…” Castiel responds.

                He is thinking of his question when Dean leans forward, the wolfish smile on his pink lips. His voice is low as he asks, “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

                Castiel’s mouth falls open at the question and his face reddens as Dean’s knees touch his under the table. He snaps his mouth shut and swallows. “Uh, n-no,” he stammers, heart pounding as Dean’s right foot trails up his left calf.

                “Do you want to?”

                Castiel’s heart stops for a moment. Is Dean asking if he wants to kiss him? Is this a serious question? He nods his head once with wide, blue eyes. He watches as Dean rises from the booth and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. The teen tosses twenty-five dollars onto the table before extending a hand for Cas. “C’mon, Novak,” Dean grins.

                Castiel takes Dean’s hand in his and rises from the booth. Mrs. Singer smiles affectionately from behind the counter as they pass, heading to the door. She and Dean wave goodbye before Dean pulls Castiel out of the diner’s glass front door. When they reach the car, Dean releases Castiel’s hand and gets into the car. Castiel follows suit, unable to keep his heart from pounding at an alarming rate. “Can I take you somewhere?” Dean asks as he starts the car with a twist of the keys.

                “Yeah,” Castiel agrees.

                They drive further down the road the diner was off of before Dean veers to the right. He winds through a tiny town with a population of five hundred and Castiel peers out the window at small homes, trailer houses, a couple cafés, and one gas station zip past his window. Dean drives, singing quietly along to the AC/DC song on the radio and makes a sharp left at a sign reading “Pike’s Overlook.” The car ascends up a small hill, winding to the left as they ascend. The sky is turning hues of fuschia, gold, and purple as the sun sets and the car slows to a stop in a small parking lot atop the hill. Castiel sits up straighter, looking at the view. The tiny town is five miles from the hill, the lights from homes and shops glittering in the darkening afternoon like stars that fell to earth. The wind is blowing softly, rustling the trees beside the lot. The songs on the radio immediately changes to something else that is slow, filling the car with the sounds of piano and a voice singing about restless hearts and midnight suns. He looks to see Dean pulling his hand from the radio’s buttons.

                “Cas,” Dean breathes, undoing his seatbelt and licking his lips.

                Castiel watches the movement rapturously, feeling his heart pounding. Dean sidles over and angles his body towards Cas’s, his knee touching Castiel’s thigh. Cas nervously swallows, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants as Dean leans forwards.

                “Cas?” Dean asks, his brow creasing. “You okay?”

                “What? Yes. I’m... okay,” Castiel says breathily.

                “We don’t  have to do anything if you don’t want to.” Dean says sincerely, leaning back slightly. “If you’re not ready, that’s fine, Cas.”

                Castiel is surprised by how gentle Dean’s voice is. How kind and thoughtful he’s being. He shakes his head saying slowly, “I’m ready.”

                “Are you sure?” Dean asks with a concerned gaze.

                Castiel nods once. Dean barely smiles before leaning forward slowly. His right hand cards through Castiel’s messy hair before falling to caress his jawline underneath his left ear. Castiel leans forward as though pulled into Dean’s gravitational orbit. He looks up at Dean through his eyelashes and his breath hitches at the look of passion in Dean’s eyes. Dean pulls Castiel’s head forward an inch before closing the gap himself.

                It’s a light brush of lips. Flesh meets flesh and Castiel’s eyes close. There’s no pressure or rush on Dean’s side; the boy just places his lips against Castiel’s. Castiel feels Dean pulling away and opens his eyes slowly, blinking at the Winchester. Dean is smiling, thumb stroking Castiel’s jaw as he whispers, “Was that okay?” Castiel nods, eyes flitting down to Dean’s pink, soft lips briefly.

                “Can we try that again?” he asks, swallowing.

                Dean chuckles quietly, ducking his head. He nods as he looks up again. “Yeah, we can try again.” He says.

                Castiel moistens his lips with a flick of his tongue and sees that Dean’s eyes are trained on the movement. He leans forward, feeling Dean’s hand pull him closer. Dean looks from Castiel’s lips to his eyes and back again. They are an inch apart, noses brushing, breathing in each other’s air. Castiel seizes the moment and wraps his hands behind Dean’s neck, smashing their lips together. Dean grunts with surprise, but soon his lips melt into the other boy’s like butter on a summer afternoon. Castiel shivers as Dean runs his tongue along his lower lip. Dean nibbles on Castiel’s bottom lip, toying with it until Castiel groans slightly. Dean takes Castiel by the mouth and Cas feels Dean’s tongue sliding in his mouth. Castiel really doesn’t know how to French and has no experience, so he just decides to go with what feels good to him. He may have been a tad too enthusiastic at first, causing Dean to chuckle slightly around his mouth. But it wasn’t horrible seeing as Dean never pulled away. But now, Castiel thinks he has the hang of it as he hears Dean moan his name around him sucking the blonde boy’s tongue. He leans forward, pressing his chest flush with Deans, arms tangling around bodies and fingers twining through hair. He is restrained and realizes he never unclasped his seat belt. He pulls one hand free and fumbles to press the button. The belt retracts into the door frame and he replaces his hand on its rightful place on Dean’s chest.

                Dean leans away, breathing heavily and Castiel starts to lean forwards to close the gap once more, but Dean scrunches his eyes closed and leans back a fraction of an inch. “Cas.” he breathes, causing Castiel to freeze. Did Dean not want to kiss him anymore? Did he do something wrong?

                “What-what’s wrong, Dean?” Castiel chokes out, nervous energy seeping through his every pore.

                “I, uh…” Dean bites his lower lip, opening his eyes to look at Castiel. “I’m… We should probably stop.”

                “Oh, okay. I’m sorry,” Castiel says, trying to keep his voice neutral as he slides back dejectedly.

                “ _No_! No, no no!” Dean stammers upon seeing the look of rejection seeping into the blues of Castiel’s eyes. “It’s not that I didn’t _like_ it… It was—wow!” He sees Dean’s face flushing a bright red in the lights from the dashboard and the other boy stammers, “But, uh, we should slow down a little. I don’t want to be moving to fast and, uh, you know get…” He gestures to his lap, turning so that his torso is no longer facing Castiel. Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up and he feels the blood rushing to his face as well. “We just probably need to, erm, slow down…”

                “Sorry,” Castiel apologizes again, feeling anything but dejected this time. He presses his lips together, trying to stop the smile that is spreading across his face.

                Dean coughs, clicking his seat belt in place. “So, I guess I should get you home now.” He says with a small grin of his own.

                “I guess so,” Castiel responds quietly, eyes shining.

                The boys ride without saying a word, the sounds of classic rock music quietly filling the older vehicle. Lights pass by as they head down the highway and Castiel watches Dean’s face be illuminated by the fiery reds, brilliant whites, and stunning blues. When they finally pull up to Castiel’s house, he glances at his phone screen—it’s ten minutes until midnight. He looks up to see that Dean is looking over at him, one hand on the wheel and the other draped across the back of the seat, and he has the softest expression on his face that Castiel has ever seen.  It takes his breath away for a millisecond.

                “Well,” Dean puffs out, his expression changing back to the playful smile Castiel is more familiar with, “that was awesome.”

                Castiel nods in agreement, saying, “It was… Thank you, Dean.”

                Dean ducks his head to hide his blush. He looks up again and says, “We should do that more often.”

                “Go to the diner on secret dates or kiss?” Castiel asks, partially knowing the answer already.

                Dean leans forwards slowly, murmuring, “What d’ya think, Novak? I mean, practice makes perfect.”

                Their lips join in a chaste, slow kiss before Dean pulls away just as slowly. Castiel’s eyes flutter open and he immediately checks that his father nor anyone else saw their kiss. “G’night, Cas,” Dean’s voice is like melting chocolate.

                “Night, Dean,” Castiel swoons as he steps out of the car and into the cold, autumn night.

                He watches Dean back out of the drive before turning and heading into his house where it is cozy and warm from the central heater. He changes into a ratty, old cotton tee that constitutes as his pajamas, curls up on his bed, wraps his down comforter around his shoulders and smiles up at his ceiling until he falls asleep where dreams of Dean’s lips and hands flutter through his mind.


	5. Can't Pretend Anymore

 

                The next day at school is full of sideways glances, a couple small, accidental-looking hand brushes in the hallways, and Dean shoving Castiel into the janitor’s closet for a heated make out session during lunch hour. When Castiel slips out of the closet a minute after Dean does, he tries to fix his hair that is now even more mussed up than usual. He goes through the now-dwindling lunch line, grabs a Styrofoam tray of tofu and whole wheat, and makes his way to his table in the back corner where Jo is seated alone. He plops down beside her with his meal, trying to seem nonchalant about the fact that he is fifteen minutes late to lunch when he is always, always, always on-time. Apparently he isn’t nonchalant enough.

                “Dude, where _were_ you?” Jo asks around her last bite of Jell-O. “I thought you died or something.”

                “Uh, just… busy. Where’s Alfie?” Cas asks, ripping his plastic ware from its cellophane wrapper.

                “He’s tutoring one of the basketball guys in chemistry; so, he’s gonna be eating lunch in the lab for the next few months.” Jo says. “Again, I’ll ask: Where were you? Nice try on changing the subject, though.”

                Castiel ducks his head, trying to hide the heat building on his face. He looks up at Jo and just as he was starting to compose his face, Dean Winchester sidles up to the table. “Heya, Cas,” Dean smirks down at him as Benny lingers behind Dean.

                “Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, eyes flitting from Dean to Jo to the table’s false-wood top to Dean again.

                “So, uh, can we _study_ tonight?” Dean smiles a bit too sweetly, but is unable to keep the wickedness out of his jade eyes.

                Castiel’s whole face turns red and he feels Jo’s eyes boring holes into his skull. “Uh, yes. We can.” He says, flustered. “What time?”

                “Uh, after football practice? So, at eight?” He glances over at Benny for confirmation and the Louisiana boy nods. Dean turns back to Castiel, lowering his voice so Benny can no longer hear him when he says, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

                Castiel fumbles with his spork and nods. “Oh. Oh, uh, okay.” He stops gaping and gains enough self-control to ask, “Your house?”

                “No.” Dean frowns slightly at that before he flushes slightly, reaching his right arm up to rub the back of his own neck asking, “Can we do it at your house? I mean, my house is a mess and I’m pretty sure Sam’s gonna be doing… stuff.”

                “My house is good. It’s, uh, great.”

                “Okay,” Dean says, rapping a fist on the table, his confident smile back in place as he walks backwards a couple steps to fall in line with Benny. “See ya, Cas.”

                As soon as Dean is gone, Jo explodes in questions. “What the _hell_ was that about? Does he know? Is he messing with you or what? If he’s screwing with you, I’ll punch that asshole right in the face. Don’t let him screw with you, Cas.”

                “What? Wait.” Castiel interrupts his friend’s rant, waving his spork in the air.

                Jo’s lips form a thin line as she presses them together. She breathes deeply before asking, “Cas, what’s going on?”

                “So, uhm, okay.” Castiel starts, lowering his voice. “At the party on Friday, Dean got pretty drunk…” He ignores Jo’s scoff and continues, “And he kissed me.”

                “ _What?!_ ” Jo practically shrieks, gaining a few looks from people exiting the cafeteria.

                Castiel shushes her, eyes darting around. He then goes on to tell Jo every little detail about the weekend. From Dean being oddly silent on Saturday to the sort-of date that ended with his first-ever make-out on Pike’s Outlook, he tells her everything as she sits, transfixed by his story. Jo is completely filled in.

                “Damn,” Jo says in a whisper after Cas finishes. “You must be one hot piece of ass to turn Dean Winchester gay.”

                “Well, I mean, I didn’t turn him. He said—“

                “Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s been on other dates with guys before,” Jo waves him off. “But seriously. To have him _commit_ to a serious relationship? After all that Lisa shit? Congrats, dude.”

                “What do you mean?” Castiel asks as the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch hour.

                Jo shrugs as they carry their trash to the trash bins on the way out of the caf. “Well, he’s only ever really _dated_ one person before. Lisa Braden?” The name is unfamiliar to Castiel and he just shrugs. Jo continues, “Yeah, she graduated last May. Anyway, he dated her our whole sophomore year when Lisa was a junior. She completely crushed him. Dumped him for this other guy on the football team. Apparently, Lisa said she wanted ’someone with less issues.’”

                Castiel frowns at that. Dean didn’t seem to have many issues. Well, besides the drinking. Maybe that was what Lisa had been talking about..?  He shakes his head and mutters, “Poor Dean,”

                “Yeah, he was pretty upset about it at first. Then, he got over it because junior year he started going on dates with girls just to make out or get to second base or whatever.” Jo says flippantly as she twists her locker combination.

                Castiel remains silent, thinking over what Jo said as they head to their next classes.

                At eight twenty that night, Castiel hears the familiar rumble of the Impala in his driveway and immediately perks up. He is wearing a navy Princeton shirt his older brother Michael had sent him last year on Christmas along with a pair of grey sweatpants and debates on changing his attire when the doorbell sounds. He hustles down the stairs, sock feet slipping over the slick wood. “I’ll get it, Dad,” he says as he passes his father’s study. Castiel screeches to a halt in front of the large, wooden door and pauses to catch his breath before pulling it open. Dean looks up from toeing at the large, potted elephant ear plant on the porch and smiles broadly.

                “Heya, Cas,” he says, adjusting his backpack on his left shoulder.

                “Hello, Dean,” Castiel returns the greeting, stepping aside to let Dean into the small foyer.

                Dean ducks into the household and toes off his worn tennis shoes before scooting them next to where Castiel’s blue Converse are beside the doorframe. “Nice socks, Novak,” Dean chuckles as he passes Castiel to gaze up at the small chandelier hanging above the middle of the entryway.

                Castiel looks down at his maroon socks. They have pink toes and heels. He flushes and says, “My aunt got these for me.”

                “I like ‘em…. They’re cute,” Dean smirks, turning to face Castiel before coming within an inch of his face.

                Castiel swallows, eyes trained on thick, pink lips. He sees Dean slipping the backpack off his shoulder and hears the ‘clump’ of it falling onto the patterned rug. Dean’s hands are against the wall on either side of Castiel’s head and Castiel hears the heavy pounding of his heart in his ears and the fluttering of the wings of trillions of butterflies in his stomach. He licks his lips milliseconds before Dean closes the gap. Lips become flush and Castiel’s eyes close and his hands wrap around Dean’s waist.

                “Who was at the door, Castiel? Was it that—” Mr. Novak’s voice is heard just as Dean swipes his tongue across Castiel’s lower lip.

                “Shit!” Dean startles as he breaks apart from Castiel, stepping backwards and falling over his bag.

                Castiel looks from Dean sprawled on the floor to where his father is standing, eyes the size of saucers. Dean is scrambling backwards on the floor away from Mr. Novak, babbling incessantly. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I was… I was just—Me and your son—Cas— are, uh… I’m sorry!” his voice is unusually high pitched and Castiel’s eyes are trained on his father, gauging his reaction.

                His father looks both calm and concerned. He removes his reading glasses, letting them hang around his neck, and his gaze is soft and focused on Castiel before turning to Dean, who is pulling his shoes on as though his life depends on it. “Dean,” Mr. Novak’s voice sounds, causing Dean to freeze in the middle of tugging his left shoe on. The older man approaches Dean and Castiel watches, wondering if his father is angry or not. Dean flinches as Mr. Novak extends a hand towards him. “C’mon, let’s get up off the floor.” Castiel’s father says kindly.

                Dean apprehensively allows Mr. Novak to help him stand. Castiel feels Dean’s gaze on him as he stands under his father’s wondering gaze.

                “Dad..?” Castiel finally chokes the word out.

                Mr. Novak places a hand on his son’s shoulder before saying, “Dean, may I have a word with my son?”

                “Yes, sir,” Dean says quietly.

                “Thank you, we’ll be in my study. You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Mr. Novak’s deep voice says.

                “Yes, sir,” Dean says again, head bowed.

                Castiel lets his father lead him out of the entryway and into his at-home workspace. He glimpses over his shoulder at Dean running a hand over his face before he passes into the study. The dark mahogany wood of the study along with the light yellow and pale blue décor is supposed to be comforting, but Castiel is still nervously shifting on the balls of his feet. His father goes to sit on the edge of his desk and looks at his son with dark blue eyes. He raises his thin, black eyebrows at his son.

                “So, Castiel,” he begins, elbows on his knees as he leans forwards. His lips tilt upwards slightly as he continues, “Do you want to tell me anything?”

                Castiel feels like he’s eaten cotton and swallows thickly. “Uh…. I’m… I like…” his gaze drops to his socks and he mumbles, “I’m gay.”

                “Okay,”

                “What?”

                Cas looks up to see his father shrug, a small smile playing on his lips. “It doesn’t matter to me who you like so long as they are a good person.” He clarifies. “I only care if you’re happy. And this boy seems to make you happy.”

                Castiel releases a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “But… But what..?” he stammers, still unable to grasp the situation.

                Mr. Novak leans forward, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “I love you, Castiel. You are my son and nothing will change how I feel about you.” He says softly. “I just wish you hadn’t been so scared to let me know this.”

                “I’m sorry, Dad…” Castiel says, all the nervous energy disappearing. “Love you, too.”

                They smile at each other before Mr. Novak stands. “Well, I think it’s time to properly meet this boyfriend of yours.” He chuckles with a glint in his eyes.

                Castiel flushes and follows his father out of the study. They head into the kitchen, but Dean isn’t there. They walk further and find Dean seated at the dining room table. The Winchester’s arms are folded on the dark, wooden tabletop, forehead resting on the table’s edge, his foot jiggling with nervous energy where it rests on the floor. “Dean?” Castiel says softly and Dean’s head snaps up. He scrambles to a standing position, the backs of his knees hitting his chair and sending it tipping backwards before he catches it and sets it back on all four legs.

                “Uh… Is—Are you…?” Dean stammers, eyes shifting from Castiel to his father and back again.

                Mr. Novak steps forward and Dean’s mouth snaps shut. The older man extends a hand and Dean takes it, giving the man a firm handshake. “So, you’re dating my son, huh?” Castiel’s father says with a warm smile.

                They release each other’s hands and Dean gives Castiel a questioning look before turning back to Mr. Novak. “Yes, sir.” He says carefully.

                “Well, I think that it is customary for me to grill you, Dean.” Mr. Novak says with a smirk.

                “I don’t think that’s entirely necessary,” Castiel grumbles from the doorway.

                Mr. Novak laughs deeply. “Let’s have a seat?” he gestures to the dining room table and the three of them walk to the table, taking a seat in the large, wood chairs. Dean sits opposite Mr. Novak and Castiel takes the head of the table between the two, an embarrassed flush coloring his pale cheeks.

                “So, how long have you two been dating?” Mr. Novak asks, gesturing at the two of them with a wave of his hand.

                “Uh, two or three days..?” Dean supplies, eyes flitting to Cas as he smiles lightly.

                A smile spreads across Mr. Novak’s bearded face. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t kept in the dark too long!” he nudges his son’s shoulder playfully before turning back to Dean. “Do you have a job?”

                “Kind of?” Dean shrugs. “I work on cars in my Uncle Bobby’s garage sometimes when he’s shorthanded. Otherwise, I’m busy with football, school, Sammy, or studying with Cas.”

                “Who is Sammy?”

                “Oh, that’s my brother. He’s fourteen and probably the smartest kid in his grade. The teachers even offered to let him skip his sophomore year if he passes a few tests this summer.” Dean explains, beaming with pride as he talks about Sam.

                “That’s impressive,” Mr. Novak smiles. “How are your grades doing? Is my son helping you out or is he distracting you from your studies?” Mr. Novak winks playfully at Castiel who turns red in response.

                Dean laughs, flushing a light shade of pink as he reaches to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, my grades are okay now. Castiel has really helped… He’s not too distracting.”

                “I’m glad to hear that.” Castiel’s father nods. “What about your parents? Do they know about you two?”

                Dean’s smile falters and Castiel sees him tense up slightly.

                “Uh, no, sir,” Dean says, looking at the table as he scratches at the designs in the wood. “My mom died awhile back and my dad is kind of… old fashioned. So, I’m, uh, waiting to tell him.”

                “Well, I hope I get to meet your family soon, Dean,” Mr. Novak says, pushing his chair away from the table. “I’d like to meet the people who have raised such a nice, young man.”

                Dean blinks in surprise from the praise before stammering a ‘thank you.’ Castiel’s father leaves the two and Dean looks up at Castiel, saying, “So, can you help me with my math homework?”

                Castiel laughs and nods.


End file.
